


Asylum

by babybrotherdean



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Brother Feels, Cuddling & Snuggling, Gen, Hurt Dean Winchester, Hurt/Comfort, Injury, Post-Episode: s01e10 Asylum
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-14
Updated: 2017-06-14
Packaged: 2018-11-13 22:16:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,119
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11194539
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/babybrotherdean/pseuds/babybrotherdean
Summary: Dean's in bad shape after dealing with Dr. Ellicott. Sam's feeling guilty and wants to try to fix things.





	Asylum

**Author's Note:**

> I saw a gifset from Asylum and suddenly: emotions. ???

Dean can taste Sam's concern and anxiety from across the room when they finally make it back to the motel. It's quiet between them, and Dean's ears are still ringing with accusations _(are you that desperate for his approval?)_ , and he wasn't lying when he said that he just wanted to get some damn sleep. He's exhausted in every way, but Sam won't stop looking at him, and it's getting on his already-fraying nerves.

"Is there something on my face?" He doesn't look up as he speaks, blindly digging through his bag like he's been doing for the past several minutes in a half-hearted search for clean pyjamas to throw on.

Sam stays quiet for a few seconds, and Dean eventually lifts his head, squinting at his brother where he's hovering uncertainly by the little TV set they've got. He looks small and uncertain, and he won't quite meet Dean's eyes. "Are you gonna... clean up?"

He gestures vaguely to his own chest, and Dean blinks before he understands. He's pushed the stingy-achy sensation to the back of his mind, but when he glances down at himself- yeah, this shirt is done for. The rock salt did exactly what Sam had wanted it to: hurt like hell, and it's left him a little scraped up and a lot bruised, by the feel of things.

In response to his brother's question, though, he just shrugs. "I dunno. I guess." Might get some bullshit infection otherwise, and that's the last thing he wants to deal with. "Is the first aid stuff still in the bathroom?"

He starts moving in that direction before Sam says anything, and then Sam's just about tripping over himself, getting to the bathroom door before Dean does. "Hey, hold on- I can help. Let me do it."

Dean's first reaction to that is a frown, and he watches Sam's expression falter slightly. He feels a little bad for that, but he just- he needs the breathing room. Sam's hovering, and all Dean can think about is the icy way he'd laid out so many of Dean's insecurities and spat on them. "Sam, it's fine. I've got it."

But damn if his little brother isn't as stubborn as a mule, and Sam visibly steels himself before standing up a little bit straighter. Dean, not for the first time, curses that last growth spurt. "Let me do it."

And Dean considers fighting him on it for a few seconds, but- but he's just too damn tired. Trying to push this will just mean he has to wait even longer before letting himself pass out, so he breathes out hard and nods, looking away. "Fine," he grumbles, and turns back to the beds. "Grab the stuff, I guess."

He's got his shirt off by the time Sam returns, and he's sitting on the edge of his bed, looking everywhere but at his brother. It's hardly the first time they've been in this situation- though it's certainly become a less familiar scene in the years since Sam left for school- but it's different, somehow- perhaps in the way that Dean feels so vulnerable and raw. He doesn't know if Sam's aware of how deep his words had cut, and he's got no intention of allowing his brother to find out. With any luck, they'll be able to get this over with quickly.

Sam's quiet as he gets to work, at least. He furrows his brow the way he does when he's trying to concentrate, and he takes the spot beside Dean before leaning in and getting to work on cleaning him up. Dean just closes his eyes and lets it happen, trying to keep his wincing to a minimum so that he doesn't have to hear Sam apologize.

The wounds are shallow, and it doesn't take Sam a very long time to finish cleaning them. Dean's pretty sure he lingers a little longer than he needs to, but doesn't say anything, even when his brother makes a second pass. It's silent between them until Sam finally speaks, barely above a whisper, and Dean can only listen.

"I know you don't believe me." Pauses for a few seconds, and his fingertips rest on Dean's skin, mindless tactility. "When I said I didn't mean any of it. But- Dean, I didn't. I'd give- God. I'd give anything to undo it, y'know? That was- that was cruel."

_I'm not pathetic, like you._

Dean keeps his mouth shut and listens to Sam breathe.

"I never would've forgiven myself, either." It's even quieter now, and Dean- Dean feels the words more than he hears them, ghosting over his skin and making him shiver. "If I'd- if I'd really..."

Dean thinks Sam would've done it, too. If Dean had handed him a loaded pistol, after all, maybe they wouldn't even be having this conversation.

Would that really be such a bad thing, though?

But Sam's hands are fumbling for his, and then holding on tight, and Dean looks up, finally, and hates the look on his brother's face, like he's trying so fucking hard not to cry. He hates making Sam cry. "I almost..."

"You didn't." Dean's voice is rougher than it should be, and he tries to clear the lump out of his throat. Doesn't resist it when Sam's fingers curl tight around his, seeking comfort. "Let's just... let's get some rest, okay? S'been a long day."

Sam just looks at him for a long few seconds, and Dean can't even make himself blink until his brother looks away. Nods. doesn't let go of Dean's hand yet. "Alright," he mumbles, and then, "d'you want ice?"

Dean ends up with a cold compress on his chest, curled up in bed, wearing a pair of sweats slung low on his hips. He's tired, and it doesn't take long for him to doze off, even though he can still hear his brother shuffling around the room. He's certainly slept through worse.

He wakes once, briefly, to the feeling of the mattress dipping under somebody's weight, and the feeling of a familiar warm body sliding under the covers behind him. Big hands pull him close, and the cold tip of a nose tucks in against the back of his neck.

"I'm sorry," Sam whispers, and Dean tries to pretend that he's still sleeping. "M'sorry, Dean."

Dean stays quiet, but he finds Sam’s hand and holds on tight, and falls back asleep with his brother’s heartbeat at his back and the tentative knowledge that Sam still loves him enough to do this.

He does his very best to cling to that part and leave the rest of it behind. He’s gotten very good at existing in a constant state of denial.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! <3


End file.
